


The Moment I Stopped Loving You

by brelovescats



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 07:06:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7257463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brelovescats/pseuds/brelovescats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moment she stopped loving her boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Moment I Stopped Loving You

I stopped loving you the day I saw you kiss another girl. You were supposed to be my boyfriend. You were supposed to be the only one I love. I was supposed to be the only one who cared about. But here you were… Kissing someone that isn’t me. I wonder how her lips tasted. Yeah. You talk in your sleep. I heard about her strawberry chapstick. Beverly Abigail Franks. She’s a wonderful girl. She thinks you are single. She is the shy nerd in my writing class that doesn’t speak. She is a wonderful girl and you are a cheater.

You, Mister Jerri Tate, are a cheater. You are also a life ruiner. A procrastinator. You are also an idiot. You are the bane of my existence. I was the loner. Blanca Serrano. The girl who everyone ignored. I was fine with that until I heard you in gym class. You were surrounded by your idiot monkey faced friends as you said, “Who’s that weird girl? The one that just stands there in the corner.” I draw in the corner. Most of my pictures are on your bare chest. I just like it. How ironic to hear you mock me for it. 

“Oh that thing? It’s nothing. A corpse.” 

And just like that I was dismissed. 

You just replied with a simple word. 

“Oh.”

Then you threw a football at scrawny tiny Danny Ranker. 

A few months later and you, drunk off of some weird brown liquid, would kiss me. You would pull my clothes off and I would be forced into handcuffs, which would be on the bed frame leaving me helpless to your ministrations. I would have to take off my purity ring. I would have to walk home from the party with once white now red underwear. And I would be told to stay silent or you would push the barrel of the gun into my throat and pull the trigger the next time you would do it. 

This all happened. It’s true. What was once a corpse became a casual booty call. I didn’t speak. You don’t know this, but I was born unable to speak. I couldn’t tell anyone. So I didn’t.

I was forced into the shadows and swallowed by darkness. And then you announced to your friends that you had a “new plaything”. You then laughed when your friend said “oh a new girlfriend?” because he didn’t realize what you meant. 

I did. My heart broke. My hymen broke the first night. Next was my heart. 

I ask myself why it hurts to see you do the same thing to another girl. Well. Start to, anyway.

And I know now. I would never wish the amount of pain I went through on another soul. I would never want that for someone. Even the worse liar. 

I hope you are happy. 

I hope you are pleased.

I am on my knees.

The gun’s barrel is cold against my forehead right now.

So now is my time to say good bye.

Thank you for living with the guilt of being the reason that I pull this triggger.

Bye.

~Blanca Serrano


End file.
